Thief Of The Blue (In-Progress)
by BlueReptile
Summary: (AU) Someone is stealing the meth Walt is cooking, and dealers are being killed by someone. Determined to stop whoever is doing this, he sets up a camera where they store the meth, and the person who is doing it will be killed; at least, Walt and Jesse are determined to kill them. WARNING: Some spoilers for Breaking Bad in this. If you haven't watched Breaking Bad, go finish it!
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

It was business as usual. The meth would be cooked outside of the DEA's sight, in the middle of the desert, then sold on the street. Between drug addicts, the "blue meth" had become famous, and thus could be sold for more, yet it was never a simple task to sell it. Some were willing to demand it at gunpoint, there were times when dealers of the product had to escape cops who had been watching the whole thing, and dealers were killed every now and then. But, there was money in it too, so it made the dangers worthwhile. At least, that's what Walter thought; he never had to risk selling it himself, as people like Jessie and Badger were doing it.

There were shadows cast in the RV as the sun slowly lowered into the depths of the sky outside. He had spent the whole day cooking what he knew could be stolen or lost. If he was not careful, he could screw up and waste half of the ingredients. It was a mundane task for him, though, and after this batch he was going to go home.

He was was finishing up said batch and smashing it into pieces as Jesse walked in. It was clear that Jesse wanted to talk to Mr. White, but he seemed uneasy. Walt noticed Jesse's presence and stopped, turning to face him.

"Yo, uh, Mr White, I gotta, like, take a few days off, man." Jesse stuttered.

Walter looked at him in disapproval. Walking up to Jesse, he asked, "And why ever would you have to do that?"

"Well, y'know, like, with all the money, I wanna, like, treat myself."

"If that is so, Jesse, why are you so uneasy?" Walt was suspicious. Usually, it was simple; he would cook it, Jesse would sell it, they would get the money as well as paying Skinny Pete and the rest their share for selling it. But now, Jesse suddenly wanted time off.

Jesse paused, and nervously scratched the back of his head. "It's, nothing, uh, it's just like, uh, and I, y'know, need to borrow some cash to afford it." The ending of his sentence faded due to the realization Walt would not respond positively to that.

Walt squinted his eyes. After a moment, he replied with, "You get enough money. Whenever we sell our product, we get tens of thousands of dollars, sometimes even hundreds of thousands. And usually, we don't even sell all of it. If we did sell all of it, we would be rolling in millions of dollars right now. Every year, we make over a million. If you would just save your earnings, you could afford a lot of things. But instead, you've come crawling to me, begging for my money. No. I need my money to support myself and my family. What do you want me to do? Smash open my son's piggy bank? Borrow from my wife and prey that she doesn't ask questions? Sell my own stuff? I don't dislike you, but I will not spend my own money on you. Look at yourself, begging a man with cancer for his money. Have standards!" he was frustrated at Jesse now.

"Hey, alright, it's not that much, okay? It's just, like, I dunno, one thousand dollars. No big deal for someone like you."

"Someone like me? I am an overqualified meth cook making a large profit from simple chemistry, yes, but I don't have money to burn. And you think a thousand dollars is not big deal? If it's not that big of a deal, then you won't need my help."

"Fine! Okay! Sorry for asking. You make too much as it is for what you call "simple chemistry". If it's so simple, how come I can't make it? I've watched you every single time. Simple? Stop talking out your ass. You make it and it's not hard for you to do so, but I have to go slave away for you, risking my own damn life to sell it, just to keep you off my back and buy some food so I don't starve to death, alright?" 

"Simple for me, Jesse. Not for someone like you. And I guess selling it is terrible for you, so terrible you haven't complained up until now."

Jesse was breathing heavily. "Do not refer to me as a different person, OK? I haven't complained up until now, but I regret it, now that I realise you sit on your ass whilst I put up with psycho druggies who shove knives in my face or pull out a damn gun and demand my money and all the meth I have. Screw you. I'm going."

With that, Jesse stormed out of the RV, slamming the door hard behind him. The sounds of his car's engine roaring to life as he drove off was audible. Walter sighed and sat down. Jesse was a good person, but it was wrong of him to ask for what he had earned. Sure, Jesse had to do the harder part of the cycle, but he still had to cook it, which could result in his face being blown off or him catching on fire. Yeah, he was used to it, but that didn't get rid of the dangers. After he calmed down, Walt took off his apron, hung it up on the RV, put his clothes back on an attached the RV to his car. He reached Jesse's house about an hour later, and knocked on the door. Jesse opened the door to reveal loud music playing and a bong on the living room table, it clear that he had used it since he got home.

"Yeah?" Jesse answered tiredly.

"The RV. Put it in your garage." Walt said. He walked off to his car, detached it, and drove away. He didn't stop to help Jesse like he usually would.

Jesse was still standing in the doorway. "Yeah, thanks, I'll just do it myself, don't bother helping or saying bye, asshole!" Jesse yelled as the car disappeared into the horizon. Once he put it in the garage, he went back inside and went to bed. Just as he was about to drift into slumber, he heard his phone vibrating. It was a call from Skinny Pete.

"Hello?" Skinny Pete blurted out.

"Yo, what is it?" Jesse asked.

"I'm in some deep shit here, bro. I hid some of the meth in my car's boot because I didn't want to carry a whole bunch around whilst I was selling it to, like, reduce the risk of being mugged for it all, but I just got back, and the boot's open with the meth all gone."

Jesse quickly sat up. "What?!" Jesse hissed.

"You heard me, man, some douchebag ran off with it, and I've barely sold a quarter of what you gave me."

"Well, you gotta get it back, man, because Walt's pretty mad at me right now and I do not need this."

"Jesse, bro, you know I can't get it back, man. It's gone." 

"Well then find a way, because if Walt finds out I'm the one who's gonna have to put up with his bitching, alright?"

Jesse hung up before Pete could respond. He sighed in frustration and then turned off the lamp he had kept on by accident before falling asleep. Everything was going wrong for him right now, and deep down, he knew sleeping on it wasn't going to fix it.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

Walt was awoken by a loud frantic banging at his front door. Groping for his glasses, he got up, and stumbled to the door. Opening it, he saw Jesse, standing there and looking red in the face. Judging by what he was wearing, he had rushed to come and see Walt about something.

"What?" Walt asked through a tired mumble.

"Yo, uh, Mr White, can I come in?" Jesse asked nervously.

Mr. White paused. "Yeah." he eventually said.

Closing the door behind them both, Walter asked, "What is it?"

Jesse turned around and looked at him. "You, uh, you know Skinny Pete?"

"Vaguely, yes."

"Well, uh, he was out selling the blue yesterday, and, uh, he left a pound in his car..." Jesse paused.

"Go on." Walt insisted.

"He, like, left a pound in his car, and he went back to get it, then he saw, that uh, that it had been, like," said Jesse, as his sentence trailed into a mix of "like"s and "uh"s.

"Get to the point." Walt said impatiently.

"Well, uh, it was, stolen..." said Jesse, his sentence fading at the end, as he instantly regretted telling him that.

Walt stood up. "What?" he snapped. "What?!"

"Hey, okay, it's not his fault, some asshole stole it from him whilst he was away selling!" Jesse said, raising his voice.

Walter walked closer. "And you want me to be okay with the fact that a pound of meth I cooked was stolen because one of your pathetic, druggie friends thought it was a good idea to leave it in his car instead of just damn carrying it, a task which he would have no issue doing?"

Jesse pushed Walt back. "Don't _ever _call him that! He's selling it for you, and only getting, what, twenty dollars a week if he's lucky since half the money he makes goes to your greedy ass?" he yelled, angry.

Walt ignored Jesse's attempt to intimidate him and walked closer again. "Oh, I'm greedy? You're the one who came to me, begging for my own damn cash for your benefit? And then what, a couple of months later, I forget, and I never see the cash again?" Walt was very close to Jesse at this point.

"Back off!" Jesse yelled, shoving Walt back again, but this time, harder, so Walt fell into a chair behind himself.

"Stop acting like a child, all right? Don't throw a tantrum because your magic blue cubes were taken, OK?! You know what? You're an asshole. A lying, backstabbing, asshole!"

Jesse lunged at Walt who reacted by jumping to the side, causing Jesse to land on the chair. Jesse leaped on top of Walt, grabbing him by the shirt and landing a punch of his face. Before he could land another, Walt overpowered Jesse and threw him off. He kicked Jesse on the floor over and over until Jesse grabbed his leg, catching him off guard, and throwing him over. He got up, and so did Jesse, as Jesse ran over and threw a punch. Walt ducked, causing Jesse to hit a wall and put his fist in it. Whilst Jesse was removing his hand from the wall, Walt threw a punch to his gut, followed by a punch to Walt's head causing him to fall defeated. As Jesse walked out, though, Walt yelled at him:

"Come into my house, vandalise my wall, and start beating me up, all because I got mad at your low-life friend for leaving meth out in the open for someone to take? Well done, Jesse. A-star!" Jesse slammed the door behind him, and Walt began laughing, his body hurting all over. At that moment, Skyler walked in with Walt Jr.

"Hey d-dad, I'm back from s-school-" he noticed his father on the floor.

"D-dad?!" Walt JR cried. "Mum! D-dad's on the floor! He's hurt bad, his n-nose is b-bleeding!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

Walt found himself in bed, Skyler and Walt JR looking at his, a concerned appearence on both of their faces.

"What happened?" Walt asked through the pain all around his body and a headache.

"Y-you were l-lying on the floor when I saw you, then when I shouted for m-mom you b-blacked out. What happened?" Walt JR replied.

"Don't worry yourself, son, it was nothing-" Walt began.

"What do you mean it was nothing? Walt, you were lying on the floor with a bleeding nose. That is something. Now are you going to tell us what the hell happened or do we have to keep guessing?" Skyler butted in.

Walt paused, thinking of something to say. He couldn't think of anything, and just looked up at his wife. She sighed and walked out, but Walt JR stayed.

"Dad, you can tell m-me what happened, I won't speak a w-word to mom." Walt JR said, desperate to find out what was going on. "Y-you seem like you don't want t-to talk about it, b-but you c-could at least repay me f-for convincing mom to not call t-the cops because I t-thought it was no big deal. B-but now I regret that."

Walt looked at his son. "I want you to tell her I was fixing the hole in the wall I had made when I fell on it earlier, but whilst I was fixing it, I tripped over my own feet and landed face first on my toolbox."

"S-she won't believe that, there was no t-toolbox there when I f-found you."

"Then tell her you cleared it away to give me space."

Walt JR hesitated, but then said, "Fine." Getting up, he slowly reached the doorway before turning to his dad and looking him in the eyes and asking, "Is that what r-really happened?"

"It's all I'm saying to you about it." Walt replied, smiling after he did so. Walt JR smiled back as he walked out of the room and Walt heard him talking to Skyler. After Walt JR was out of Walt's sight, his smile instantly left his face as he jumped up out of bed and snatched his cellphone off of the bedside table. He went to contacts and called Jesse. He just had a thought; what if the thief had stolen from where they stored the meth, aka hidden in the desert?

"Speak." Jesse answered as Walt got through to him.

"Jesse!" Walt blurted out. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Well, then, do it instead of announcing it." Jesse said, in a tone that indicated he was still mad at Walt but willing to listen to him.

"That guy who stole the pound of meth from your friend, what if he had stolen from the meth we hide in the desert?"

"I doubt it, okay, the guy was probably some deranged druggie who was high off his heels and broke into Pete's car, his ethics down the shitter, allright?"

"Jesse, you don't understand. I think the guy who stole it is one of us."

Jesse laughed in doubt. "Pfft. Yeah, sure, and who would that be?"

"Remember that guy, uh," Walt clicked his fingers trying to remember, "Gus! Yes, Gus, the guy who wanted us to work for him? We showed him where we stored the meth, which was foolish because we then declined his offer, and he seemed eager to get it and annoyed that we had said no to working for him. He could've easily stole it and sold it, because he knows how popular it is and how much people are willing to pay for it."

Jesse took this into consideration. "Alright, fine. I guess that could be possible. You wanna go take a look?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be outside your house in a second, just wait."

"Okay. Thanks. Bye." With that, Walt hung up, closing his cellphone and putting it in his pocket. Grabbing his jacket and putting on some shoes, he headed for the door, said bye to Skyler and Walt JR, and left. He saw Jesse and headed over, getting in. As they drove, they spoke.

"Sorry about earlier." Walt said, out of the blue.

Eventually, Jesse said: "I'm sorry too."

It was followed by silence up until the point where Jesse asked, "So, uh, how's life?" It came out awkwardly, though, as Jesse had never been good at small talk.

"Good, good." Walt said.

Changing the subject, Jesse said "Open the glovebox."

When Walt did, he found two loaded pistols. Closing it, he asked, "Why?"

"Just, y'know, in case the guy's there. If he is, I'll be happy to shoot a round up his ass before he scampers off onto more of the meth."

"I guess it never hurts to be prepared." Walt said.

As they reached the destination, Jesse eyed a figure near the meth, and he appeared to be stealing it.

"That motherfucker..." Jesse said, fuming with anger, as he grabbed a pistol, cocking it, and launched himself out of the car quickly. "HEY!" He yelled, whoever it was hearing and running off, dropping some of the meth. They headed for their car, and as soon as Jesse realised, he opened fire. "GET BACK HERE, BITCH!" Jesse yelled, as the back window smashed due to the gunfire. The whole time, Walt had grabbed his pistol and gotten out of the car, but was sheepish when it came to firing. The car screeched off into the distance. "Argh... DAMMIT!" Jesse said, mad at himself for not thinking of shooting a tyre. As they went closer, they saw some of the meth was gone and a trail of it was leading to where the car was.

"You know, you could've helped." Jesse snapped at Walt, mad at him for hanging back.

"You seemed like you had it, and when I realised you didn't, it was too late." Walt defended himself with. "We needed that guy alive to interogate him for who he was or what he was, and what did you do? Shoot the back window out his car and kill off chances of him coming back here ever again."

"There's other places where we store it." Jesse said. "He'll probably be heading there."

"Fine. Now come on, let's head there." Walt said, heading back to the car. As Jesse got in, the tyres spinned and they zoomed off, going after the person who was stealing it. But they found a group of people waiting for them, taking cover behind open car doors. Jesse and Walt had fallen into a trap; the person who was "stealing" their meth had basically been the guinea pig for a much larger operation.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4 (short chapter, mainly here to resolve what happened with the theives)**_

The car swerved to a sideways position, allowing Walt and Jesse to get behind it for cover. Bullets continued to hit the vehicle as if it were a halistorm; once or twice, a window shattered into tiny little pieces and fell to the ground.

"What now?" Jesse yelled, barely heard by Walt over the gunfire which could be heard across the desert.

"I don't know!" Walt shouted back, then having to quickly shift away as the window above them was shot out.

Eventually, Jesse spoke: "I have an idea!"

With that, Jesse popped up and fired at the tyres of the vehicles belonging to the thieves. They didn't notice, so Jesse returned fire on them, and so did Walt; it caused them to retreat into their cars after one or two of their men were shot dead. But, the cars had punctured tyres, and as soon as they drove off one of them crashed into another and then into the final one as if they were dominos. It wasn't clear if it had killed them all off or not, but it was clear they weren't getting out of their cars. Even being knocked out would provide Walt and Jessie long enough to escape.

Walking over to the cars cautiously, one of them crawled out. Seeing Jesse and Walt, he instantly tried to escape, but he was limping and Jesse managed to grab him.

"WHO ARE YOU?" Jesse yelled furiously. "WHY WERE YOU TRYING TO STEAL THAT, BITCH?"

The man was panting, and then suddenly passed out. Jesse sighed, frustrated, but then he saw an emblem on the man's jacket, showing a skull with some text under it which read:

_JURAREZ CARTEL_

Walt broke into nervous laughter, just happy to be alive. Whilst Jesse was silent, Walt knew he felt the same. Getting back in the car, the arrived at Jesse's, Walt's car still there, the moonlight making it visible.

"You okay?" Jesse asked.

Walt looked at him. "Yeah."

Saying their silent goodbyes, Walt got into his car and returned home. As he got in, though, Skyler was not happy.

"Where have you been?" She asked, demanding an answer. "You walked out of the bedroom, grabbed your keys, said a rushed goodbye and you were off. I was worried, Walt."

Walt looked at her, smiling. Slowly, he said, "I was sorting out business."

With that, he tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and flopped down onto his bed.


End file.
